"If you say so."
The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, and Annabelle gulped down the rest of her tea before heading back to the classroom.
BY THE TIME the final bell rang at three-thirty, Annabelle was tired but happy, the way she always was after a good day at school, and most every day was a good day. She waved goodbye to the children as they poured out into the playground to meet their parents, then turned back to tidy up the classroom.
Nina was already stacking chairs. "Do you need me to stay and help?"
"No, no, you go on. I'll finish up here."
"Are you sure?" But Nina was already grabbing her bag, clearly eager to leave.
"Positive. Have a lovely evening!"
Once Nina had gone, Annabelle took her time straightening desks and wiping down the whiteboard, organizing pencils and returning library books to their proper places. This was her second favorite part of the day, the quiet after the chaos, the satisfaction of a room put back in order.
She thought about Jamie as she worked, about the way he'd smiled when she praised his reading. That was progress. Small, but real. Sometimes that's all you needed, just someone paying attention, someone who cared enough to keep trying.
When everything was tidy, she locked up the classroom and practically skipped out of the school.
There was a welcome basket waiting to be delivered, and she couldn’t wait to find out just who she was delivering it to.
Chapter Three
The music was loud enough that Annabelle could hear it from her own sitting room.
She was determined to ignore it though, people deserved to enjoy themselves in their own homes, after all. But when her tea began vibrating across the coffee table in rhythm with what she could only assume was the bass line, she decided perhaps a friendly word was in order.
Besides, she had a welcome basket to deliver, and now was as good a time as any. She’d just slip in a quiet word about the music at the same time. Something friendly, of course. Something nice and cheerful. She didn’t want to give her new neighbor the wrong idea.
The basket sat on her kitchen counter where she'd left it that morning, cheerful gingham cloth still perfectly arranged around the lemon biscuits and jam. She'd added a small card that read "Welcome to the neighborhood!" in her neatest handwriting, complete with a smiley face.
The music grew louder as she walked up the path to the cottage. It was rock music. Proper rock music with electric guitars and drums, not the sort of soft indie folk she usually heard drifting from village windows.
"Right then," Annabelle said to herself, adjusting her grip on the basket. "Just a friendly introduction. Everyone loves a warm welcome."
She knocked on the door. No response.
She knocked again, louder this time. Still nothing.
Well, obviously. Whoever was inside would have trouble hearing a knock over the music, wouldn’t they?
The third time she knocked, a little harder this time, the door swung open under her knuckles.
"Oh," Annabelle said to the empty hallway. "Hello?"
The music pounded from somewhere deeper in the house. She hesitated on the threshold, basic British politeness warring with the fact that the door had quite literally opened for her. That was practically an invitation, wasn't it?
"Hello?" she called again, stepping inside. "I'm so sorry to barge in, I just wanted to…"
There was no one around.
She'd drop the basket on the kitchen table. That was all. Just leave it there with the card and make a quick exit. The kitchen was visible straight ahead, through the open doorway, and…
The bathroom door to her left swung open.
Annabelle's brain registered several things in very rapid succession.
First: there was a woman emerging from the bathroom.
